


Small Amendment, Long Term

by Picpicpic



Series: The Way We Are [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Sherlock, Coming Out, Conversation, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Relationship(s), Sentiment, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:46:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22558942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Picpicpic/pseuds/Picpicpic
Summary: Sherlock had gone into his mind palace about an hour ago. He’s now come out of his musing with a resolution.“I have an amendment to make,”
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: The Way We Are [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826347
Comments: 13
Kudos: 182





	Small Amendment, Long Term

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot for now. might receive a second chapter as the boys find their way.

“John,”

“Mm,” John’s eyes slowly rise from the book he’s reading, his attention spanning between the page and Sherlock, sitting on his chair across from him. Sherlock had gone into his mind palace about an hour ago, and John had used the quiet to catch up on his reading. He’s now come out of his musing with a resolution.

“I have an amendment to make,”

“An amendment?”

“Yes, to what I said at Angelo’s,”

“Angelo’s?”

“Yes, that first night we ate at Angelo’s. About certain things not being my area,”

“Things,”

“Girlfriends,” he can see he has John’s attention now, “and boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends.”

“Yes, John, stop parroting my every word and keep up.”

“An amendment? About boyfriends not being your area?”

“Right. That may have been somewhat imprecise.”

“Imprecise?”

“John,”

“Sorry. Go on,”

“Boyfriends are my well within my area.” _There_.

“Are they?”

“Yes. Sex, however, is not.” _Just_ _so_.

“Sorry, what?’

“I refuse to repeat myself, John.”

“So you’re…”

“No.”

“Um, what?”

“No, I am not a virgin. I am, however, what people commonly refer to as, Asexual.”

“Asexual.”

“Yes, you have heard the term before.”

“Yes.” He can see John working to put the pieces together, relating the new data to past impressions. Sherlock lets him look, lets him form a new impression. “So… The Woman… Janine…”

“Were not my sexual partners, no. Were not, in fact, any sort of partners to me.”

“But you have….”

“Yes, John. I have experienced sex, many years ago, to find I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like it,”

“No.”

“Any of it?”

_Eyeroll. Huff_. Just to make his regard to this line of inquiry clear and known. But he was the one to raise the subject, so he’ll allow it to some extent. “Mostly. Some physical aspects, - some touch - is more favourable than others. Non-sexual, intimate touch is f-fine when with the right person, but the rest of it, no.”

“The r-right person?” John’s voice flutters at the words.

“Has yet to stake his claim.”

“Sherlock -”

“Is it still fine?” Sherlock’s firm gaze meets John’s eyes, but John can hear his undertones shaking with uncertainty. Under his calm and efficient facade, Sherlock is still asking his friend for acceptance of who he really is.

“Yes. Of course, Sherlock.” John’s eyes do not falter. He goes on, emphasizing. “Whoever you are, is fine. Brilliant. As you are. You know that.” His voice softens. “Thank you for telling me.”

Six reactions flitter their way around Sherlock’s mind. But he merely nods once in response. It seems like a good place to pause. Not overwhelm John with everything else he’d meant to admit. He knows John to need time for cerebral processes concerning sentiment. Let John come to him for the rest of it.

His eyes follow John as the other gets up to make tea. Buying time, unsettled by the new discovery. _Why?_

-

“I’d like to ask some questions,” John, like clockwork when he’s confused. “If you’ll allow, to clarify.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean to pry. If this is too personal, too intimate, too…”

“I am under no duress to answer,” Sherlock confirms, to show John he’s amenable. 

John inhales, fortifying himself. “Who? When?”

“University. Three different people, to different degrees of involvement, on three different occasions. All rather common, dull affairs. Though some more than others involved recreational use.”

“Drugs.”

“Don’t get preoccupied with this, John. It was merely a means to an end.”

“Means to an end,”

He can see John’s rage flare-up. “John,”

“How does it work –“ John grits his teeth, changing the subject, trying to compose himself. “Boyfriend without the sex?”

Sherlock is now the one to take the time, looking at John’s features, assessing his own answer. “I’m not entirely sure,” he admits, “No one had come to fill the position.”

“And yet you know you’re amenable to men?”

“Yes, if I had to choose, yes. A relationship may be sexual, romantic, emotional, physical, intimate, all of those combined, as well as each of them alone. The one does not exclude nor necessitate the other, does it?”

“I suppose not,”

_Not enough. Try again. Be better. _“A boyfriend, I don't care for that term. Rings of childish follies. A partner… would, to my understanding, to my…” _say it_, “desires, be someone to share my time with – my thoughts, my interests, my passions, my questions. Someone I’d be willing to share their own with. Someone who could bear to spend the time with me, enjoy it. Even the dark moods, the violin, the silences. Someone I could bear have see me thus. Someone I would want to spend the time with, care for in my own way. Someone who would care enough for my well-being, to keep me eating or sleeping, dull as that may be.” _Smirk. Lighten the mood._ “Someone to spar words with when I’m bored. Or investigate London when the walls are closing in. Or lay around the flat in my dressing gown.”

“That doesn’t sound so different from how we live, Sherlock, from our r-relationship.”

“Yes.” _Yes_, _John_.

“Oh.”

“John – “

“I –“

_Now. Now._ “A partner would also be someone to hold. To hold me, when… Someone to share my bed with, to lay with if... Someone to know me, as I am. Someone to stay despite it all. To see me grow grey and wrinkled and fat,”

“You couldn’t be fat if you tried.”

“John,”

“What are you asking, Sherlock?” He can see the pain written in John’s features on the chair across from him. His hunched shoulders, his clenched fists. Fear of the words he most anticipates. It is too late to go back now.

“You are the only one who evokes sentiment in me, John. I have come not to despise it. I am asking you if you’re willing… with me.”

“Why now?” John's eyes squeezed shut, his fingers covering his face.

“Because it doesn’t sound so different from how we live, John. From our relationship. Because you haven’t been on a date in seven months. Because the last three dates before that had ended quite depressingly, for you. Because you’re nearing forty and your libido is not what’s guiding you in your relationships anymore. Because you’ve stopped looking for it outside of these walls. Because this is your home, and you are never as happy as when we sit to watch mind-rotting telly after solving a case. Because my life would be bleak if you ever left. Miserable, John. Sentiment. Because I want - ” His breath gets the better of him, wheezing out of him in short gasps. Finally making him stop talking. He’s heaving as if he’d been screaming at the top of his lungs. Somewhere during this over-disclosure speech, John’s hand had fallen from his eyes, his gaze meeting Sherlock’s again, making it all unbearably exposed, making the words tumble uncontrollably out of his mouth.

“Breathe, Sherlo -”

“Nothing has to change if you don’t want it.” Sherlock feels like the boy trying to plug a dyke with his finger. Only his hands are shaking so, he’ll probably just bring the dyke down on himself. “I just – I thought it pertinent that you know how I… that this, for me… is…”

“Y-you used the word d-desire,” John’s eyes bore blue into his, “Do you? Desire?”

_Don’t be an idiot, John._ “Don’t be an idiot, John.”

“I don’t know,” _He’s shaking,_ “That I know h-how to l-love without the p-physical… no,” whispered_._ “That's not accurate.” _Hands tugging at his trousers. Holding back. What? _Start again. “I don’t know that I know how to s-show you how much I l-love you, without physical affection.”

Breath hitching. _He said. He said._

Tears. _Tears. Itchy eyes. Red. Hand, _reaching_. Fingers, _just, across the gap. _Callused, cold, known_._ John._

“You have to promise me something.” Sniff, breath, stabilize.

_Oh?_

“That you will never again regard your body, your mind or your health as merely means to an end.”

“John,”

“Ever. Promise me.”

“I -”

“It also means stopping me, if things go too far; if things become uncomfortable. You are never to allow things you don’t like or want to happen, just to accommodate my needs.”

“But -”

“No, Sherlock. Never. I won’t ever want to cross the line. Promise me you’ll always tell me.”

“It’s all going to be compromises, John. Middle ground, for both of us.”

“Don’t ever compromise who you are, Sherlock, not for anyone. Not even for me.” _Angry? Why? No. With himself. _

“John,” Up. Step. Hand_, tighter. _Pull_. Into my arms. _“Stop. Stop,”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” _Sniffles. Fingers, _searching, clawing, lapel, gripping_. John._

_“No,”_

_“I’m sorry,”_

_“No more,” _Hair_, soft. Coarse. Gold. Silver. Shampoo. _Inhale.

Stiffening, _oh John._ “Is this ok?”

_Stop being an idiot, John_. “This is comfort, John. Not sex.”

Exhale_. Relief_. Giggle_._

_Giggle._

Giggle, _giggle_. Snort.

_Giggle. _Giggle, giggle.

Outburst. Laugh. _Beautiful. _


End file.
